


Reaching Out Towards an End

by SampahMasyarakat



Series: 2021 Writing project [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Happy Ending, I made this before Haikyuu ended so i didn't know about Suna's sister aha, M/M, Slow Burn, author is projecting, breakup (not main pairing), references to the previous story but can be read as a stand alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29340396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SampahMasyarakat/pseuds/SampahMasyarakat
Summary: Atsumu loves, Suna hates, and both of them are weighed down by guilt of those feelings.(Or, two dumbasses’ love story, told in a three part mini opera)
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Suna Rintarou, Side pairing of Miya Atsumu/Original Character
Series: 2021 Writing project [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128464
Kudos: 24





	1. Love according to Atsumu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atsumu was a bad boyfriend.

Atsumu has zero brain cells and rose coloured isn’t the right word to describe highschool romance. He lamented this fact as he ate dinner and brought it to the front of his thoughts when Osamu turned off the lights in their room, grumbling something about going back to Onigiri-chan. He stared at Osamu’s bunk bed, eyes opened and mind closed, the faint brownish light from his phone forgotten beside him.

Love was such a wonderful and frankly, horrifying concept. Atsumu had fallen in love several times before but nothing had ever felt like this. Atsumu feels like a virgin in how he can’t handle the way his feelings throw him into a washing machine. 

Love was weird, it terrified and confused Atsumu, and in the same way people dreamt of studying in their sleep, Atsumu dreams of love in the shape of cloudless skies.

“Yo, Atsumu.” Suna greeted Atsumu as the blonde dragged a random chair to Osamu’s table. In his hands was his phone, clearly Suna has ascended higher than Atsumu in terms of reading fanfiction, because Atsumu found out that the reason behind the phone being Suna’s extended limb is fanfiction. They weren’t attached to the hips, no, Suna and his phone were a non-negotiable package, one doesn’t need to see to understand the level of intimacy Suna has with his phone.

Atsumu has zero brain cells, because he’s really doomed if the weird and horrible feeling inside his chest is jealousy... towards a fucking phone.

“Where’s Osamu?” Atsumu asked conversationally for the sake of conversationality, sitting down and opening his bento on the table.

“He got called by Ren-sensei for something.” Suna already had his cafeteria food on his hands, munching away in little small bites while his eyes are still trained to the device, which is kind of cute.

Oh fuck, Atsumu is doomed.

“Did you read the one I sent yesterday?” Suna locks eyes with Atsumu and it sends thousands of flags inside of Atsumu’s brain, reminding him to ACT COOL DON’T FREAK OUT. Atsumu looked away, pretending to focus on eating while internally trying to assimilate with earth and never come back.

“Nah, I fell asleep, sorry Rin.” Atsumu remembered last night’s texts, with Suna conversing using the elegance of someone on an acid trip and Atsumu overanalyzing all his response to the point of making a college essay worth of texts. Atsumu did this when he broke up with his first girlfriend, so why was he doing it now?

“Don’t worry about it.” Suna brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and Atsumu tried not to stare. “So, what got you those eyebags?”

Atsumu absentmindedly brushed his eyes, yes his eyes felt heavy as a brick and he almost fell into the underworld in History class, but he chalked it up with Volleyball exhaustion, not “I couldn’t get Suna’s smile out of my head so I started counting sheeps and turned it into a battle royale and still Suna’s smile stayed in my head rent-free.” And he refused to admit that that happened.

“I couldn’t sleep, had a rough day.” Atsumu is a big fat liar, the Osamu in his head told him so. Suna took another small bite and hummed in response.

Atsumu is doomed, heavily doomed, nuclear catastrophe.

“Yer doomed ‘Tsumu.” Osamu told him once Atsumu had finally broken down to Osamu about his... crush thing. Atsumu knew Osamu is the equivalent of a knight that bulgeoned its victims with thousands of spoons when it comes to Atsumu and his problems, he can be as gentle as the first gulp of cold pocari in a summer’s day but Atsumu has a suspicion that Osamu would choose the former just for his own entertainment.

Atsumu glared and hugged his deformed pillow tighter, past Atsumu was right, the only thing he can trust in this world is Suna’s smile and his pillow. “I know, ya don’t have to rub it in.”

Osamu stared at him like he’s a misbehaving child and he’s holding back on cooking him in a stovetop with carrots and pepper, “I have to, I’m yer twin.”

“Oh suck my dick ‘Samu!” Atsumu threw his pillow to the grey haired bastard, who threw them back with more force than necessary.

“A shrimp isn’t a dick ‘Tsumu, and good luck with Suna.” Osamu returns to the homework, Atsumu has a niggling feeling that Osamu is laughing at him, no not just Osamu, God is having a great time making Atsumu the star of some misguided rom-com with the rating of 6.9 and no progression whatsoever except for his suffering.

Atsumu’s life consisted of three things, Volleyball, food, and fanfiction. Those three things are absolute and never changing, it’s blasphemous for the world to continue without one or the other. All three are the reason why Atsumu is the peak of human excellence. But now something threatens those three pillars.

Ah yes, the crush.

“Ehem,” Judge Atsumu pounded his gavel, “Now we are in session for the rewriting of the Atsumu commandments, Atsumu, please explain the case.”

“Thank you, Atsumu.” Logic Atsumu opened the files in his hands before fixing his oversized glasses. “Today we are discussing the subject Suna Rintarou and his actions that lead us to believe that the subject is trying to take Atsumu’s life.”

All the other Atsumus whispered amongst themselves as Logic Atsumu struggled to plug in the powerpoint, the screen flickered to life and all Atsumus gasped in unison.

“Evidence number one, Thursday after volleyball practice from a month ago, the subject and Atsumu were walking home together. When the subject couldn’t buy anything from the ice cream vending machine-“

“Atsumu manned up to pay for Suna’s ice!” Stupid Atsumu raised his hand. “Ah man, that was great!”

“..Yes, as Atsumu was saying,” Logic Atsumu point to the next slide, “After Atsumu paid for the subject’s ice cream, the subject did this.”

_Suna’s cheeks were dusted in pink as his gaze refused to meet Atsumu. Atsumu started to panic before Suna glistening lips trembled and let out small-_

_“...Thank you.”_

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” The entire courtroom burst into screams as the clip freeze-framed on Suna’s shy face.

“O-Order in the court!” Judge Atsumu weakly pounded his gavel, but it was evident that he himself was affected by his red tips of his ears, “We are here to discuss very important matters! Please get yer bearings together!”

Suddenly, a heavy sharp sound silenced the whole crowd, Cynical Atsumu had just slammed his foot onto the table, “Why the hell are ya freaking out about this? Suna _clearly_ just wants to say thank you. No other meanings besides that.”

“Are ya blind or stupid, Atsumu?” Romantic Atsumu slammed his hands onto the table, “Look at Rin-tan closely! If he was just thanking us, then why did he didn’t meet our gaze? Why were his cheeks red?”

“Obviously that was just our perception, right, Atsumu?”

Philosophical Atsumu nodded his head, “Yes, I believe we have the tendency to romanticize things in our head, maybe that’s why Osamu was always drinking Strong Zero on weekends-“

“That ain’t true! We are here to discuss the objective truth of the situation!” Romantic Atsumu was still steaming like a bull, ready to fight god.

“Even if it’s objective, we have to agree that all the things we are seeing are through Atsumu eyes, Atsumu.” Logic Atsumu finally got his life together, even though his face is considerably very red. “Sit down Atsumu, I’m not done yet.

“Now, let’s get to the second case.”

The screen flickered to another scene, this time in a very familiar gym. All the Atsumus oohed and aaahed before a ball whizzed towards Atsumu.

_“Atsumu!”_

_Atsumu’s fingers released the ball and he watched as the ball was spiked by Suna, ignoring the impressive two man block of the opponents with his flexible torso. Suna looked at the ball on the opposite part of the court with the biggest smile that reached his eyes, candid and beautiful. Atsumu felt his heart stop, was god trying to make Atsumu realize that he has a big fat crush on Suna or is he having a stroke?_

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

“S-stop screaming everyone! Shit, someone get a stretcher and a defibrillator for Atsumu! Atsumu! Stop, don’t ya fucking dare touch that-FUCK I told ya not to touch that!”

Everything was a mess and a fire had broke out in the stands.

“This is going nowhere.” Philosophy Atsumu lamented as Stupid Atsumu fainted and fell head first to the ground. “Actually, Atsumu, bring another stretcher in, and a fire extinguisher.”

“Uhh, we don’t have a fire extinguisher anymore, Atsumu. We used all of them yesterday because of Atsumu.”

“Goddamnit.”

“W-Well, onto the third case, which was the case zero that brought light to the symptoms Atsumu is experiencing now.” Logic Atsumu looked like he was about to die, either from spontaneous human combustion or from the blood inside of his veins bursting out of his face, “It resulted in the casualties, as y’all remember, three months ago, Atsumu and Atsumu had passed away due to this one.”

_The scene was at Suna’s house, all four of them had graduated and said their respective goodbyes to their upperclassmen, Kita-san had decided that the third years are going to celebrate with themselves and the day after that, they will hold a farewell party with all members of Inarizaki Volleyball Club. Osamu didn’t want to go back home and instead the four of them agreed to spend time in Suna’s house._

_Unbeknownst to anyone who hasn’t worked in a group project with Suna, Suna is a rich brat with no motivation to do school. Dirty rich, but Suna takes good care in hiding this fact unless it’s for school work, Atsumu doesn’t know the amount of time Osamu was bribed to do all of their group projects but his guesses ranged between most of the time to all the time, maybe that’s the reason why his twin would always group together with Suna._

_Suna has a cabinet in his room full of pompous sounding red wine and Bourbon, or Vodka on lucky days, Suna said this wasn’t because he’s an alcoholic, he just like the taste of them, which was what all alcoholics say, because Osamu had said those exact words to Atsumu when Atsumu caught him pouring Strong Zero onto his water bottle before school._

_Osamu got smashed immediately, singing in falsettos as he played Suna’s unused guitar, Gin followed suit, this time he didn’t accidentally fall down from Suna’s balcony but instead cocooned himself in Suna’s blankets while crying about his dead plants. Atsumu never liked the taste of alcohol, especially anything harder than zero percent beers, but he tries to enjoy the glass of bourbon that Suna poured in a mug._

_“Atsumu.” Suna didn’t seem like he had drunk anything, which was untrue, Atsumu watched him down half of the red wine in less than ten seconds when Osamu started on the guitar. In his hand was his trusted phone, pointing it at Atsumu._

_“’M not drunk yet Rin, ya ain’t blackmailin me no more.”_

_“Aww is ‘Tsumu shy?” Oh Suna was definitely drunk, his voice slurred a little at the end, “And who said this was blackmail material?”_

_Atsumu could distantly hear Osamu’s hoarse voice, singing about horses and Gin’s ugly sobbing, but all of it went away when Suna staggered towards Atsumu with his phone, his face resembling Atsumu when Atsumu was about to pull off that one prank that defined his middle school years. Atsumu’s heart skipped a beat and another, he couldn’t let his eyes leave Suna’s, he felt trapped and free under his gaze, and all at once Atsumu became aware of how free he feels._

_“This is for me.”_

“....” Logic Atsumu fainted on the spot, just like many other Atsumus on the court. Cynical Atsumu was silent, the fire had consumed all the stands.

“So... what the hell are we supposed to do about this?”

“Ain’t that obvious?” Romantic Atsumu raised his head, “We can all agree that we all have a crush on Rin-tan, even if we’re different facets of Atsumu, we’re still Atsumu in the end, and Atsumu is undeniably whipped.”

“Agreed.” Cynical Atsumu spoke up to Romantic Atsumu’s surprise, “As much as I hate how uncontrollable Atsumu is when it comes to crushes and l-l-l-lo-ove, it’s much more of a pain when we don’t do anything about it.”

“So?” Philosophical Atsumu asked the other Atsumus, “Can we all agree to rewrite the Atsumu commandments into adding subject Suna Rintarou and Atsumu’s massive unlogical crush towards this man?”

“Aye.” All the Atsumus agreed in unison, ignoring the fire that consumed the court.

Atsumu is doomed.

Meanwhile Osamu stared at his chromosome defect who’s staring at his laptop while it plays a russian propaganda, Atsumu had stayed in that position for over an hour, face blank like he had just met the god of death and is forced to gamble all his life away. Osamu is starting to get worried for his idiot of a twin.

“Rin, we need to talk.”

“What is it?”

Atsumu was avoiding Suna. No, it’s not because he had finally realized how much he’ll give for Suna’s smile and no, it’s not because whenever he sees Suna he feels like his heart would fly out of the stratosphere and he would trip himself up in front of Suna, who’s well known as the Blackmail Collector. Atsumu was avoiding Suna because he’s afraid of confronting that L word that cultivates rose coloured memories, which was dangerous.

Atsumu didn’t visit Osamu's class, opting to keep himself busy in self-studying for a test he usually gives a rat’s ass about. He didn’t feel like he failed at least and when the next recess rang it’s bells, Atsumu ran to the nurse’s office.

But when he opened the door, he was met with familiar long brown hair and a familiar ache inside of his heart.

“Good morning—Oh.”

Atsumu stared at Yume as she dropped her clipboard, her mouth hanging open like she just met death, maybe that was true, maybe Yume sees Atsumu as death, because Atsumu can correlate the coldness inside his heart with something similar to it.

“Sorry,” Atsumu flashes Yume his smile, trying and failing to outwardly calm Yume, “Can I hide here for a bit?”

Atsumu met Yume when he was in middle school. Yume was his class representative for three straight years and Atsumu thought she was a cute girl, albeit a bit shy. On his third year graduation, Yume and Atsumu began dating. A year and a half later, they mutually broke up. Atsumu would like to think that they broke off on good terms, but he never talked to her again after, the wound was too deep and it was too fresh to lick, so he left it to rot.

So, of course the nurse’s office was awkward as fuck.

Atsumu tried to close his eyes and get a short nap, but his mind was going on a mental parkour course and he had already broken his legs from the first landing. The fact that Yume was in the same room with him, even though they’re separated with a curtain, prevents him from getting the peace of mind to beat the shit out of his guilt of avoiding Suna.

It all feels like a worst case scenario, worse than North Korea declaring World War Three to the rest of the world and definitely worse than Osamu stealing his food.

Silence permeated like polluted fog, thick and heavy on his tongue, he wants to do something to break the silence, but all he can do is swallow the pain and ignore the wound that was left untreated.

“A-Atsumu.”

Atsumu took a sharp breath and exhaled through his nose, the pain and affection still clung onto Yume’s voice, like those memories of happiness still persisted even when everything was gone, Atsumu shut his eyes, wishing for something, a miracle? Something, anything.

“I’ve always regretted-“

Atsumu felt his world shrink, suddenly feeling too small for his own skin. This is it, the final verdict, he sat up on the bed and everything spins, or maybe he’s spinning. Maybe the world spins and he’s not.

“-the fact that I never clarified anything when we broke up.”

_What?_

“Sorry, it was horrible of me to break up over text, I should’ve... I should’ve done better for you.”

“What are you talking about, Yume?” Atsumu grimaced at his own shaky tone, a familiar bitterness and elation dancing as he spoke her name in what seems like years.

“The truth is, I wanted to say thank you.” The curtain dividing them slowly pushed aside, revealing a somber looking Yume with an expression too complex for Atsumu to understand, gratitude and remorse. “Thank you for those days you spent with me and thank you for everything else. Even though we already broke up, I have never once regretted our relationship.”

Atsumu watched as Yume brushed her eyes, always strong and kind, even when Atsumu couldn’t return those happy memories Yume gave to him. “Why are you saying that?” Atsumu could feel his throat tightening, “It wasn’t your fault that we broke up, Yume. It was me.”

“It wasn’t-“

“It was.” Atsumu said, mostly to himself, “It was. I... I always chose volleyball over and over again, I never once considered your feelings and...”

“Oh Atsumu,” Yume’s eyes were gentle, always strong and kind, maybe it was the reason why Atsumu fell in love with her in the first place, “I told you that I understood that fact and I don’t hate you for it.”

“But that ain’t right! How can you not be mad when all I ever did was...” Atsumu trailed off, anger and shame overflowing him, his eyes felt hot and it was not long before his vision blurs, everything spins, and Atsumu doesn’t know which way it’s spinning. “...it’s....I’m sorry.”

“Atsumu.” The bed creaked and Atsumu felt a warm hand on his shoulders. “You shouldn’t apologize for something that can’t be helped, it was all in the past after all. I’m going to keep telling you, I didn’t, and will not hate you for the things you’ve done or didn’t.”

Atsumu croaked out a choked laugh, his heart hurts, everything hurts. It feels like Yume just poured the kindest salt all over his wounds, it sears, it burns. Everything hurts and he feels like he has seen the end of his suffering, like the rainbow after a forest fire. “...How are you this kind?” Atsumu feels like he’s been slapped.

“A talent of mine?” Yume chuckles and trails off, “I... I think I deserved better, but your love for volleyball... that was a part of you that I loved the most and when I... realized that our relationship wasn’t working out, I desperately wanted to blame everything on you and volleyball.

“It was... so selfish of me. I didn’t want you to hate me, yet I just broke off without any explanation. Sorry, I’m sorry.” Yume smiled even when her tears flowed down her cheeks, Atsumu felt guilty and free, it was so confusing, they’re crying, yet Atsumu saw the end of his suffering. A happily ever after, after a happily never after.

Atsumu cries with Yume, his wound still fresh and stinging, it’s healing, slowly putting itself together, Atsumu feels like he’s healing.


	2. Hatred according to Suna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suna dreamt of Cinderella and happily never afters.

Suna was an outcast. This wasn’t a new fact, Suna knew he was an outcast the moment he stepped inside of his new home in Hyogo and realized that he doesn’t feel at home. It wasn’t all that different, the apartment back in Tokyo didn’t feel like one either, but he could always hang with Kazuya-kun next door or go to the playground and pester Shintaro-kun into not playing basketball.

Suna never realized he would miss those two and now everything was different. Suna was an outcast in his own home, or maybe he never had one. Everything was different and it was too big compared to his empty one.

Suna never thought he’d miss Tokyo, but he does. In those nights where all he can do is stare at his phone’s sharp glare and it’s constant state of silence, he missed Tokyo.

Suna’s first pick was Itachiyama, his second one was Nohebi, and on the graduation of his second year in middle school, he found out that it didn’t matter what his pick was. “Suna,” They tell him as they sat down to eat dinner for the first time in his life, “We’re going to Hyogo.”

Suna doesn’t remember what he said, it didn’t matter anyways, whatever he did, they’re still going to Hyogo. What Suna remembers was sitting in the dining room with both of them gone, just tidy chairs opposite of him that never move, the words ringing in his ears.

“We’re going to Hyogo.”

_ Why? What’s happening? _

“We’re going to Hyogo.”

Suna can’t leave Tokyo behind, Nohebi had extended a scholarship for Suna and he’s already preparing to take the entrance exam for Itachiyama. He had already planned out the very best way for him to enjoy volleyball, and yet they’re still-

“We’re going to Hyogo.”

Suna doesn’t remember what he did, it never mattered anyway. So he stared at his half-finished plate and remembered the bitter ash inside his mouth. He’s sick of this. Wishing upon a star was as useless as hoping for them to understand Suna, so for the first time in his life, Suna lets himself hate.

Hatred was a funny thing.

His parents enrolled him in Inarizaki when they found out that his middle school won third place on Nationals, Suna hid the soreness of his legs and the injuries on his fingers from repeated overnight practices with a blank look as he sat outside of the interview room. Suna got the last laugh, it was enough.

But of course it wasn’t, life still goes on even if he won the nationals. Suna’s life didn’t end when he graduated, Suna’s hatred didn’t end when Suna unloads all his volleyball trophies on the new desk that smells like shit, Suna’s suffering didn’t end when Suna had to introduce himself to his new class. Suna wished it had ended when Nationals was over, but as he stared at the new ceiling and heard the silence of a Hyogo house, he was childish to think that it would’ve ended on a happy note.

Suna dreamt something sometime ago, long before everything had gone tits up and Suna discovered the magical curse of Hatred and cultivated it like gold. He dreamt of Cinderella and her shiny ass fucking shoes, her and the prince that fell in love with her, the world was unfair to Cinderella but in the end, she grabbed her destiny by he horns and flung it into the stratosphere. They get married in the end and Cinderella’s evil family gets locked up, in the end, Cinderella gets her happy ending.

Suna’s dream didn’t end there.

He remembers thinking that it was all some sort of bad joke set up by God, because what came after Cinderella’s happy ending wasn’t all that happy. Cinderella soon found out that the prince she married was bisexual and had an affair with her guards. Overtaken by rage, she killed him with her slippers and crowned herself Queen. Inside of her room, she drowns herself with wine and sleeps only when she could no longer differentiate between night and day.

It all never ended on a happy note, Suna thinks. It won’t end, it’ll continue until the dead horse can’t cough anymore.

Suna wished for an end, but for and on what, he never knew.

Everything after Nationals was a blur of nothingness, including himself. It felt like he was reborn, albeit as a cheap version of Suna from the past. After so many overnight practices, he ended up not remembering anything of note from his past. If you had asked him about what things he did in middle school, the answer would be volleyball, and if you had asked Suna what he did outside of volleyball, he can’t answer the question.

There were times when Suna remembered something he had enjoyed. Video games, messing around in volleyball practice, editing shitpost, playing guitar while making the most nonsensical lyrics, even reading those cringey fanfictions of some obscure media. He remembered the warmth it spurs inside of him and the joys of it all, but now the youthful joys seemed so far away. Suna can’t recognize the Suna from his memories, the one that doesn’t hate and instead makes the most out of what his parents won’t give him, and Suna’s pretty sure that the past Suna will be disappointed with what he had become.

Suna doesn’t feel the same, rather he felt like he had lost track of himself. Maybe he never knew himself in the first place, maybe he had lost himself in those nights where all he could feel were the burning of his thighs and all-consuming desire to win.

Hatred was a funny thing. Maybe if he didn’t let himself hate, Suna would’ve been able to feel and return to his life in Hyogo. Maybe if he didn’t let himself hate, Suna would’ve kept in touch with his old teammates. Maybe if he didn’t let himself hate, maybe Suna would’ve done something.

Maybes and maybes.

Hatred was a funny thing, because when you let hatred run its course, regret soon follows.

_ Who am I? The boy questions himself, a blank paper and a blank boy, the boy thinks it’s funny, they matched. But the boy can’t answer them, because even then, he was an outcast to everyone and himself. What the hell can he answer? _

_ The blank paper and the blank boy. How ironic. _

If Suna’s story was something like Cinderella, the complication to his story will start with the entrance of Miya Atsumu.

The scene was set. Suna knew Atsumu was the kind of nail that would purposely sticks out of the bunch, no matter how much everyone around him tries to push him down, Atsumu still stands out with his confidence and overall obnoxious personality. Suna hated Atsumu, for what he can’t give you a clear answer, not that he himself understands.

Suna can’t remember a lot of things, but he knew the repeated annoyances that came in the form of Atsumu being a huge dick and himself was one of the reasons why Suna felt the greys of his life slowly chipping away back into its original colours.

(Later he realized he hated Atsumu because he hated how the man could so freely express himself. It was an experience like watching someone achieve the dream you’ve been so afraid to reach out for, Suna hated Atsumu because he had seen what could have been.)

It’s no wonder that hatred bubbled up to the top, especially with Atsumu being infamous for never sugarcoating his words, and Suna losing control over himself.

When Suna punches Atsumu, everything falls away like a watercolour painting returning to the sea. For the same reason why puzzle pieces always completes a picture, Suna doesn’t know why it took him so long to finally come to the realization, and for the same reason why Atsumu was a blinding aureate in a sea of greys, Suna felt he can finally breathe around the emptiness of his heart.

Then, the teachers came.

It all felt surreal, Suna thinks as he massaged his sore fist. He opened his palms and gripped it back, relishing in the stretching pain crawling up his arm. Beside him, Atsumu was doing the same, poking his bandaged cheek and hissing every few seconds. The silence was surreal, everything was surreal, Suna wasn’t sure he’s currently waiting for the teachers to drag them to the principal’s office because Suna lost control of his emotions, Suna wasn’t sure the memory of punching Atsumu was real, was Suna real? Suna can’t answer the question.

_ The blank paper and the blank boy. How ironic. _

The stale air was filled with tension and wonder on Suna’s part, because he isn’t sure how Atsumu was going to respond to his outburst. He was scared, but he also felt free, he’s also filled with guilt. How does someone respond to conflicting emotions? He can’t answer those questions.

Suna took a deep breath and fuck it, he can fuck up everything in this day and deal with the consequences later, he already punched someone, how worse can it get?

“Atsumu.” Suna clenched his fist again just to ground him from the creeping vines regret that’s climbing up his throat, “I’m sorry I punched you.” Suna exhaled a breath and the world seemed to align just right, “You were an asshole and I probably should’ve punched you a bit more, but I’m sorry.”

That startled a laugh out of the shittier twin, which startled Suna. The world had gone to shit if Atsumu laughed after they’ve been punched. “You sure you didn’t get a concussion? You’re already an asshole Atsumu, you don’t have to complete the set with insanity.”

Atsumu laughed harder before wincing in pain, ah, the cheek. Suna doesn’t know if he should feel scared or if he should just let out the maniacal laughter he’s been holding when he punched Atsumu. Atsumu grumbled a little before smiling, bright, Suna winces, brighter and brighter, “Huh, who would’ve thought!”

Suna tried to decipher Atsumu and gave up in the span of a millisecond when he realized he was trying to decipher Atsumu, which was one of the world’s seven mysteries next to Kita-san. “You’ve lost it dude.”

“No, no,” Suna’s world tilted with Atsumu’s chuckle and he wonders if this was fate, “Who would’ve thought you were such a funny fellow! I thought you were a robot or something, but turns out yer just shy!”

_ The world was colourful, the blank boy lamented when a blinding aureate falls into the boy’s hands and spreads like wildfire on his skin. The boy was no longer blank, he was filled with colours. _

“Sorry for my dumb twin, he’s an asshole.”

“Don’t worry, it felt nice when I punched him, and I’m sorry for punching him too. I think I get why you like to punch him.”

“...What.”

_ Slowly, the blank boy remembers how to love. _

Hatred was a funny thing, Suna thinks as dawn breaks through the Hyogo house and illuminates his room, because hatred only disappears when Suna starts to colour himself again. Maybe if he were to end his story, this would be what he chose. But life goes on even when he feels like he’s at the peak of the mountain, and so the fairy godmother spun her wand again, because by the end of Suna’s first year, he fell in love, harder than anything he had felt before.

Cinderella married her prince, Suna could only watch as Atsumu and Yume chatted while the ugly bitterness on the back of his mouth made him want to live and die.

He wanted to laugh, but nothing came out.

_ The blank boy and his aureate skin struggled to pick a hue for his heart, the blank boy wanted gold, but the shy girl next door already had gold for her heart, so the blank boy did nothing but watch as his heart darkened until light never seeped through. The world was colourful, but once again, the blank boy could only stare at his aureate skin and wonder why can’t he colour his own heart. _


	3. Guilts and endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone fucks their own story, Atsumu and Suna fucked their own, and in the end, their story doesn’t end, but both of them see the end.

Guilt was weird for the both of them, because guilt was the kind of guest that would overstay their welcome and insult all of the furniture before running off into the night with half of the valuable shit, so it had sucked when guilt arrived at Suna’s house in the form of Yume and it had sucked when guilt arrived at Atsumu’s front door in the form of Suna.

Both of them didn’t know that guilt would be what fucked everything.

Their story is ending, but before that, something must be done with their respective uninvited guest.

_ It was fucked up, Suna was doomed. Suna vaguely remembers the book hidden beneath his other middle school books that was titled the bro code, he was pretty sure one of the rules with the highest punishment was to never fall in love with someone who’s already in a relationship. Suna was doomed, now his divine punishment wasn’t paying a night out with the boys but to live with the fact that his love will never bloom into spring or see the light of day. _

_ Suna eyed them when Yume visited the class, he hoped for the best, was it for himself or Atsumu’s happiness? Suna can’t answer them. _

_ Guilt trailed behind Suna when he sat next to Yume in his second year, it was hard to feel jealous for her, because Yume hadn’t done anything wrong to Suna, yet it still hurts to see them together. _

_ When the two of them broke up, Suna felt guiltier for the small seed of hope inside of his chest. Love was very confusing, Suna thought when life seemed to return to normal, because he didn't know what to do after the shit show that was Atsumu’s love life. Maybe he should reach out to Atsumu? No, it would feel cheap, the timing wasn’t right, it wasn’t right, maybe it was all a misunderstanding and they would go back together, maybe it was all a dream, maybe Suna was still dreaming and he never woke up for the last match of middle school Nationals. _

_ Maybes and maybes, Suna wants to do something, yet Suna doesn’t do anything, it won’t matter anyway, in the end he’ll still suffer. _

Atsumu sees the end as a stilted conversation in an empty nurses room, with the afternoon bell echoing in his head as they sit next to each other, talking with empty hearts and wet cheeks while the sky shimmers a little brighter. Everything felt full, Atsumu’s heart was full.

The end was something tragically beautiful, Atsumu feels free in the way birds spread their wings and flying for the first time, not in the sense of flying birds, but the freedom of flying that birds without wings thought of on nights where their comrades left their own flightless wings to protect the lives of others. Guilt turns wings into arms and turns flying birds into reptiles, for Atsumu, it turns him into an unmoving penguin stranded on the edge of the world. For reasons he can’t grasp nor describe, he wants to let the void pull him into its loving embrace and find out if a mere penguin can refuse gravity to see the stars.

Maybe flightless birds aren’t meant to fly, yet Atsumu wants to reach out to the skies and laugh at god’s shitty assumptions. Atsumu may be flightless but he can fly higher than any bird and any men, and in that, the end looks tragically beautiful in the way a year-late apology brings freedom and peace to flightless penguins.

_ Suna doesn’t remember a lot of things, which was a fact that fluctuates in it’s truth based on the time of day you ask him. Suna doesn’t remember the past the same way people can’t recall history lessons they slept through in highschool, however he could recall the colour of certain memories in his first year as an Inarizaki student. Atsumu was a blinding aureate that clung onto the monochromatic emptiness of his early days. Punching Atsumu was a gradient of orange and blues, and it was probably the end of his black and white youth and the rough transition of his life into something much more vibrant. The end of his first year and the first time he realized the beating inside of his chest wasn’t some symptom of an incoming stroke whenever Atsumu walks into the frame, his world was undeniably rose-coloured to high heavens, until it all blended into a Monet painting on acid. _

_ Then, he can’t remember anything about those beautiful pinks on the edge of the volleyball gym’s windows, because meeting Yume wasn’t coloured in any other colour but the colour of Atsumu and the disappearance of hope behind drowning night lights. _

_ Suna can’t remember a lot of things, but he remembers the swirling purples of half full half empty wine glasses trying it’s hardest to cover the ugly pinks and his darkening aureate skin, he remembers the artificial orange gold of glistening brandy trailing down his glass jar that would make him laugh until night and day turns into normal afternoons below a dying sun. _

_ The disappearance of pinks that splattered itself all over the gym and stray volleyballs marked the start of something worse than death, a poorly aging love that turns into a black mess, Suna knew it won’t end well. _

_ Suna doesn’t remember everything, not because he can’t, because Suna doesn’t want to, he’d rather remember the bitter burning on his throat rather than remembering Atsumu smiling besides Yume and the endless hole he’s falling into. _

“’Tsumu, the hell is wrong with ya? Stop spacing out ya dumbass!” Atsumu looked at his twin brother who looked like he’s three seconds away from beating his ass to Sunday, Atsumu can’t respond with his usual empty insults stemming from the quick flash anger because there was none, anger sounded inappropriate after a revelation greater than religion and the meaninglessness of life. Osamu seemed to pick up on it with the way his face morphed into confusion. “...Did something happen?”

“Sorry, it’s nothing.” Atsumu answered like a default NPC response, Atsumu’s not sure if he’s standing in the gym or he’s still in the nurse's room dreaming about being in the gym. His feet feel the earth and his mind is in the skies, he’s here and he’s not there, or maybe he’s stepping on clouds and his head is stuck in the ground, he doesn’t know, the flightless penguin also doesn’t know.

“Atsumu.” Ginjima called out from somewhere Atsumu can’t discern, he has his ears plugged underwater, “You should take a break, you don’t look so good.”

Atsumu had to disagree, he felt better than ever, but the Kita-san inside his head was looking down at him, so he let himself change into his school clothes and walked until he blindly stared at the same wood slates of Osamu’s top bunk. The buzzing of a distant star held his hands as his thoughts marched like spaceships onto the next conquerable star system, and in those moments between living and dreaming, he realized he Suna wasn’t at volleyball practice

That night, Atsumu dreamt of sheeps and Suna’s smiles. He found him, he found his end.

_ Suna wasn’t an alcoholic, he just liked the way it tasted. That’s what he said to Atsumu and Osamu on a random walk towards their respective houses, and the latter twin had agreed, looking at Suna like he holds the world in his palms and was furiously juggling it, while the former, the one who’ll say dumb shit that’d make Suna want to strangle and kiss him for his tomfoolery, had looked at the two of them like he had witnessed his first human assisted reproduction on the near extinct Spoon genus. Suna and Osamu proceeded to ignore Atsumu in favour of doing anything else and that was the first day Suna truly met Osamu. _

_ It was true, twins do share a brain cell, Osamu is just better at hiding his shit behind smoke and mirrors, but when Osamu sat down in front of Suna with his stash of alcohol, the real Osamu rears it’s gears. _

_ To say Osamu was timid would be a false statement, because the real Osamu, the one who’d come out every ten shots or so, was similar to Atsumu’s general shitty behaviour, albeit much more thoughtful and meaningful than the blonde twin’s dumb retorts. By the end of their first year, Osamu—and sometimes Atsumu and Gin—would hang out at his house, Suna’s pretty sure he sees Osamu in his house more than he sees the two murky figures that come and go like ghosts of the past. _

_ “Suna,” Osamu asked him in a day so forgettable, Suna’s not sure if he created the memory out of thin air, “Do you like someone?” _

_ Suna laughed, he does, he likes someone, so he told Osamu weird metaphors about the endangered species of pinks on the tips of Atsumu’s fingers and his squeezing heart, he told Osamu about the hatred, the love, the guilt of loving Atsumu when he’s in love with someone else, he told Osamu about how he’s so tired yet those disappearing pink still stubbornly persisted, he told Osamu about the blank boy who wanted an aureate heart of his own. _

_ Osamu pitied him, Suna knows because a lot of people had the same pained look when they realized his parents won’t bother to show up to anything and they smile like Suna will be alright. Suna laughed, he needed to laugh, if Osamu’s not going to laugh then Suna has to, someone has to fill the role of the audience watching a failing comedy show, if everyone is going to give him the same eyes, the same words of sorry, the same kind of plastic reassurance, Suna would rather be the audience having the time of their life bashing the main character and his cowardice. _

_ Osamu wasn’t laughing with him, his eyes looked even sadder. The real Osamu—the Osamu who wasn’t constantly silent because he’s waiting for the chance for Atsumu to fuck up their family name and become a fugitive—patted his shoulders and offered him another drink of a nameless alcohol Suna can’t be bothered to rememeber. _

_ “Suna Rintarou, yer doomed.” _

_ Suna laughed harder, he heard the audience laughing along too. _

Atsumu didn’t see Suna anymore, in the halls, in the classroom next door, or in the gym. Osamu told him Suna wasn’t feeling too good and Ginjima told him Suna was focusing on his college entrance exams. Somewhere within those three days, Atsumu sent Suna a message.

Atsumu didn’t see Suna anymore, his phone was empty of Suna’s shitty memes and acid-trip induced ramblings, they don’t talk about school work on late nights, Atsumu’s disconnected from the mainframe and he could only wait until Saturday comes.

**Atsumu : Rin, can I come over on Saturday, there’s something I want to talk about**

_ “Rin, we need to talk.” _

_ “What is it?” _

_ Osamu’s eyes were still trained on the half-mangled styrofoam and the cutter on his hand, Suna’s watching Osamu’s cleanly follow the sketchy line with half-interest, with the other half going to his phone. _

_ “What are you going to do about Atsumu?” _

_ “What am I supposed to do about Atsumu?” Suna answered back. Malice wasn’t meant by his tone, he was just stating a sentence that has been playing in his head ever since Atsumu stopped coming to their class for his lunch with Yume. Osamu understood, surely the grey haired twin understood with his seventeen years of dealing with the blonde haired twin. _

_ “They broke up, Yume and Atsumu.” _

_ “...I know.” Suna didn’t know, maybe he just didn’t want to believe it. Speaking it out loud is the same thing as manifesting it to life, it was the truth and Suna was averting his eyes. Osamu stared at him like he understood, before he went back to the styrofoam. _

_ “So? As much as I want to see Atsumu happy again, I’m also your friend,” Osamu said it like honesty comes naturally to him, like stating the fact that yes, grass is green and you’re a coward Suna, “Are you still in love with that dumbass?” _

_ Suna let the orange hue of the sunset answer for him because Suna can’t answer, no, he’s just scared of answering. Letting the words fall out of his mouth would only make it a reality, so no, he can’t answer it. Answering it would mean that Suna would finally poke the slumbering nuclear bomb that is his emotions. _

_ “...I see, if it makes you feel better, as long as it won’t make Atsumu fuck up more than he already did, I won’t oppose anything.” _

_ “Are you giving me your blessing?” Suna asked with a huff, his mind going overdrive and either he laughs it out now or he’s going to have another breakdown in 24 hours. Osamu doesn’t face him, instead letting the squeaking of Styrofoam fill the silence with it’s screech. _

_ “Who knows.” _

_ Suna doesn’t know if he wants to know or not. _

**Rin : Alright**

_ Suna Rintarou finds himself relishing in the stagnation of love, preferring apathy towards his growing affection towards a certain dumbass instead of facing it, in the dark crevices of whatever exists beneath consciousness. It’ll stay that way because then Suna won’t be hurt, he’ll do whatever it takes for those colours to stop changing. _

_ He finds himself back at square one, lost in his apathy and too consumed by fear to change, like a boat that lost its way home, gently swaying in the sea as the sun goes down. He finds himself back at square one, as the teacher assigns both Suna and Yume together for a third year project Suna couldn’t give any shit about. _

_ The girl was sweet and kind, Suna could see why Atsumu fell in love with her, but it only added salt to the wound. He wanted to hate her, and Suna realized that it wasn’t Yume that he hated, it was what she represented. Suna felt like he was looking into a mirror when he talked with Yume, between her kind smiles and uncharacteristically crude jokes, Suna realized she had what he had lacked. _

_ The bravery to find love, and the bravery to find her own ending. It’s blinding, Suna feels like filth compared to her. So he asked her about how she could bring herself to find her ending without getting content with the stagnation of conflict. _

_ Yume had laughed and told him that she’d fucked up, through a tired smile, while she had ended it with Atsumu, she still felt guilty over it. Suna stayed overtime in an empty class as they talked with each other, a greater sense of pity, tenderness and long overdue hatred overflowed his heart. They held onto each other’s secrets, fears, and at the end of the day, Suna realized that they were more similar than he had thought. _

_ Suna didn’t mind it, as all childish hatred stems from the lack of understanding, it falls away in a cascading pink that doesn’t turn black anymore, it stays, stagnating in it’s love. Suna doesn’t know whether he wants to change or not, yet as the days pass by, as Suna tries to pretend that whenever Atsumu walks into view he wants to proclaim to the world how much he hates loving Atsumu. _

_ People say that you should fake it till you make it, Suna can’t make it, he’ll fall in the middle of the race with a leg injury and gets trampled over the things he tried to run away from, leaving him breathless and downing another glass and another and another, filling and emptying whatever’s left of his resolve to never letting change happen. There’s a certain joy and contempt that comes with keeping the status quo and Suna is too scared to face whatever the fuck will happen if he ever let himself reach out and touch that aureate colours. _

_ The day of reckoning comes slowly, a march towards a better future, or an end, a change that Suna doesn’t decide for himself and a change that Suna isn’t prepared to face. Yume tells him that she’ll end it properly, leaving him behind in the marathon to reach her own happy ending. _

_ “Suna,” Yume smiles like she had always known, “I hope you’ll find happiness.” And well, Suna had an inkling of suspicion that she had always known about how a blank boy desires for an aureate heart of his own, and in that revelation, Suna thanks her. _

_ But they were in the race, and while Yume had run head first to the end line, Suna decided to look back and run away, off-track, off the beaten path, and off course as the dread of confronting or even meeting Atsumu seems like a far worse fate. He doesn’t want to hope anymore, he doesn’t want to face the blinding aureate and hope that he could reach out and asks him for his hand and for his heart. _

_ He doesn’t want to see that hope crash and burn, and in that tragedy, he sees his end in the way a small text message shatters his cowardice and guides him towards an end. _

Once upon a time, Suna will narrate in a story he’ll write someday. There lived a boy who ran harder than anyone else, he ran away from a reality he didn't want to face, letting his hatred carry him away from the coldness of a house that doesn’t welcome him. Yet when he stopped, he found himself in a world of blank papers and empty hearts, finally realizing that it had all been meaningless, holding onto a person that no longer existed.

But one day, the world bloomed into aureate, letting the boy let go of his hatred as love blossoms in pinks. A rose-coloured youth, a sense of normalcy to an otherwise empty husk of confused emotions. Guilt soon follows when the boy realized how much he had loved the aureate that seeps on his skin, yet the aureate had already belonged to a girl much more deserving of those golds.

Yet when the girl gives him hope, shrugging off the guilt of hatred off his shoulders, he does what he had always done, he runs.

The doorbell rings, the soft click of the lock opening, a tired smile, and the morning that hasn’t let go of yesterday’s rain. A declaration of love, a declaration of yearning, of rose-coloured highschool romance and Atsumu’s feelings. With dawn bursting at the seams, Suna doesn’t brace for the impending impact anymore and reaches out for an aureate heart of his own.

Their story won’t end, yet this ending of theirs could be the beginning of a happily ever after. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! THIS WORK WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN POSSIBLE IF IT WASN'T FOR MY BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL BETA READER WritingStarling, BECAUSE DAMNIT AFTER ALL THESE YEARS I STILL DON'T HAVE PROPER GRAMMAR.
> 
> This work has been in the makings for half a year at this point, I jokingly made a sequel to The Quick Brown Fox back in July of 2020 and it grew into something monstrous. This had probably become my child during this pandemic, it's something that kept me going from doing fuckall in school. I had to take a break from writing this due to my magic jazz hands breaking the PC again, so it was lost for 4 months before my family fixed it and I could finally finish writing this.
> 
> This had been such a fun ride, usually I would hate whatever I write down 3 paragraphs in but for some reason I am incredibly fond and proud of this work. 
> 
> This month doesn't have a theme so I thought i'll just finish this up for February!!
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


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